Running out of things to talk about

I am not really running out of things to talk about – never fear, my garrulous self has not changed, I can talk about nothing really.  I am struggling to find things to write about here though. There is less happening and so less occurs to me to talk about.  There’s a lot of emotion, but let’s be honest, that is a response to the news and worse, fears about a future which feels very uncertain.  Neither are actually things that are happening.  Worrying about the news or getting too caught up in my own concerns is a good way to anxiety.  It’s a balance to start planning for what the world may look like after lockdown and not worrying too much about what the world will look down after lockdown.

In fact lots is happening, my days are full and busy and I speak to a lot of people every day.  So I have many stories and other experiences filling my mind, but this blog is not the place to be telling others’ stories. 

What is lacking is the usual wealth of experiences that my life is blessed with.  Travelling to other places, being in other locations, even the local shop, feed my mind and give me something to write about.  The longer I am at home (it’s been nearly 7 weeks now), the more I am relying on others’ stories and the arts to give me a window on the outside world.  I am more curious about others though, which is a good thing, hearing how everyone’s day has been at dinnertime is a real treat.  I really relished in seeing the scenery of Northumberland and Yorkshire on this weekend’s TV faves of Vera and Last Tango in Halifax.  Books take me to a different place entirely and plays streamed on TV transport me to a different time and experience.

All of this is keeping me amused and distracted, but of course is not replacing actually being places.  In the same way that a video call is not replacing the personal contact with other humans. 

I wonder if the feeling of running out of things to talk about is also a response to the fact that I am generally much calmer at the moment, because I have no trains to catch, no meetings to race to, much less juggling of places and people.  The days are getting blurry without the distinction of the usual low key kitchen sink drama of life.  This is probably all a very good thing.  But rather rubbish for a blog.

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